


A Little Bit of Rhythm and A Lot of Soul

by Lucky107



Series: In the Ghetto [2]
Category: Mafia (Video Games)
Genre: Explicit Language, F/F, Gen, One-Sided Attraction, Vulgar Description
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 06:58:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9167374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucky107/pseuds/Lucky107
Summary: Nicole hates the French Ward - she always has.





	

The French Ward.  
  
Nicole hates the French Ward - she always has, and yet she always finds herself right smack-dab in the middle of a sea of bodies on a dance floor there. The French Ward has every type of fetish club known to man, but Nicole is twenty-two and still trying to figure out who she is.  
  
The only person she's properly come out to is her baby brother - but she _thinks_ the girls she's come with tonight might be her friends.  
  
That's why she agrees to go out dancing at some sleazy club.  
  
Instead, however, she finds herself dancing all alone with complete strangers in the bump and grind on the floor. Those so-called 'friends' are nowhere to be seen.  
  
But Nicole keeps her chin up: she made herself a promise that she would have a good time, and that's how she ends up locking eyes with a dancer up by the stage. She sways her hips to her own rhythm amid a loud psychedelic light display and, each time her arms come up, the hem of her too-short dress teases a glimpse of her backside.  
  
She's wearing a pretty smile - a _wild_ smile - that says she doesn't give a damn about what the sleazy fucks in the club think about her.  
  
Any one of these losers would pump himself dry to the thought of her giving him even one minute of her time before turning around to call her a whore for her work, but not Nicole.  
  
Nicole admires the dancer's fearlessness from afar, awe-struck by the way she stands up against the perverse thoughts that burden the room and dances anyway. There's a certain magnetism in the stranger's smoky blue eyes that has Nicole blossoming like a flower on the dance floor in spite of herself.  
  
  
By the time Nicole finds a proper clock face the sun is almost up and she still can't find the girls who brought her. She's not surprised: they were never _really_ her friends and she feels foolish now for ever believing they were.  
  
Slinging her jacket over her shoulder, she paces up and down the lonely side street with a cigarette loose in her lips.  
  
The door opens at her back, but Nicole pays it no mind.  
  
She's only a wee bit tipsy from the piss water the club was serving, but she's not about to walk herself all the way back to Pointe Verdun in her current state. She's made that mistake one too many times already, so she'll take the cab fare any day.  
  
From the corner of her eye, however, she catches a glimpse of brilliant red hair and turns to find the dancer from earlier that evening.  
  
And she's looking right at Nicole.  
  
"Small world," the tall, lanky redhead says, traces of that wild smile still gracing the corners of her lips. Nicole deduces from her muddy Yankee accent that she's not from New Bordeaux. "Don't look so surprised: you stand out in a crowd. Beautiful single ladies aren't our usual clientele."  
  
"Came in with some friends for a girls' night out," Nicole admits around her cigarette, punctuated by an easy chuckle. "Not that you'd know it now, of course - haven't seen hide nor hair of them since sometime yesterday afternoon. Name's Nicki, by the way."  
  
"Briana," the dancer, Briana, establishes. "Irish?"  
  
"Irish Point, born and raised," Nicole confirms, offering her cigarette to Briana. "You?"  
  
"Empire Bay," Briana says, accepting the offered cigarette with long, delicate fingers. She takes a long, slow drag and her blue eyes seem to sparkle in the glow of the gaslight. "Staying up Pointe Verdun-way, the Pearl Diver. You know it?"  
  
"Fuck, 'know it'? It's practically in my damn backyard," Nicole says, her voice rich with humour as a taxi cab rolls up. "Split a taxi fare with me?"  
  
"Don't mind if I do."


End file.
